


But, truly, I have wept too much !

by a_bittersweet_crow



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: ASOS Spoilers, Angst, Gen, Red Wedding, Season/Series 03 Spoilers, but not as much as one could imagine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-05
Updated: 2013-06-05
Packaged: 2017-12-14 02:11:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/831523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_bittersweet_crow/pseuds/a_bittersweet_crow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>« Mother … » he whispers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But, truly, I have wept too much !

**Author's Note:**

> I never write (I do rp but it's only in French). But after reading this famous and atrocious Red Wedding in a Storm of Swords and after watching it in the series 3, I felt the need to upload those few words. Obviously, the following text is very spoiler-ish. It's mostly based on the series but I used parts of the book as well. I suppose it's a mix. 
> 
> Please bear with my English. Feel free to point out any mistakes I would have made. 
> 
> The title is a translated quote from Arthur Rimbaud who is more or less my favourite poet.

« Mother … » he whispers.

 

Already his vision is slightly blurry. And everything around him disappears in the fog; the traitors and their laughs, the beloved but already cold wife on the floor, the shouts from the ones still alive or the war across the walls of this castle. He only sees _Her_ , with her red hair, the same than his, they all used to say, or the blue eyes which seem to fade but more than everything else he can see the tears. He would like to tell her not to cry as there is nothing worse than seeing her in pain. He curses the Gods, old and new for he would have preferred dying far from her sight. He hates making her cry.

 

But it’s done and maybe it’s better because he is tired, he never wanted to wear such a heavy crown or to be called King in the North and he welcomes Death with relief. His knees hurt the floor, and even if his eyes are still open, he is not there anymore.

 

He is lying in a couch of straws. It’s cold and wet. Again, arrows drill his skins and his fur. It hurts but not much more than when he was on two feet. And at least, he is not alone this time. He can feel his old friend with him. This is not a direwolf anymore; it’s a scarred wolf cub which doesn’t want to die. _Shh, shh_ , he thinks and he knows the animal can understand as they now share the same envelope, _you’re not alone my friend; I am here with you, and this time it is until the end_.  Death could have been harsher and maybe the Gods have finally been merciful to let him spend his last breaths with his direwolf. He regrets having turn away from his best friend when it tried to alert and protect him. Maybe it wouldn’t have ended this way and he owns the animal an apology.  

 

And finally, he feels the end. If he was in his human body, he would have held the wolf against him, he would have pet his head, he would have bury his hand in the rich fur. Instead, he talks to the wolf, he tells him again and again that they will not be part and that they are together, it's all that matters. It’s maybe the first time that they can understand each other so well. And they deserve it after all they went through. His death is sweeter than he thought because how many men have the chance to die in company of their most loyal friends when so many die alone?

 

Their eyes are heavy but before they close, they see…Right in front of them, the small form of a child.  

 

_Arya_

 

His baby sister is there. She looks terrified and incapable of moving, her eyes are on him, on the wolf lying. But she breathes. She is alive. She is not lost as they all said. She is not dead as they tried to make him believe. He would have preferred her not to see him dying because he knows how it will hurt her even if she may not understand who or what he really is, he would have preferred for her to be far away from this cursed place because he knows she will try something rash as soon as she clearly understands. But looking at his little sister one last time makes everything easier and as they closes their eyes his ultimate thought is:

 

_The pack survives._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. 
> 
> What is funny is that I haven't written a proper fic in years. (maybe 8 or 9 to be precise). And Robb isn't even my favourite character in the books or the series. Don't get me wrong though, I love him a lot. 
> 
> But the whole scene was so traumatising for me. I empathise too much and I really needed to soften his death. It got me so upset and I am still not over it. So I have decided that my own canon was that Robb went to Grey Wind as Bran does with Summer and that they died together. And at the very end seeing one last time his little sister, one of the packs would help him go.


End file.
